


Robin Hood  or The Young Ladies of Sherwood's Christmas Pantomime

by Marcus_S



Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [11]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU 1920's, Bad Puns, Breasts, Condoms, Gender Confusion, Genital Torture, Inappropriate Erections, Lesbianism, Puberty, Robin Hood References, Sex Education, Unplanned Pregnancy, cross dressing, letchery, minor smut, pantomime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S/pseuds/Marcus_S
Summary: Well it’s that time of year [cries of ‘Oh no it isn’t’ will be treated in the appropriate manner] so I thought I’d offer up a seasonal AU. I shall publish a chapter every two days.Comments are always welcome, in fact it isn't a real panto if the audience don't join in.
Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779334
Comments: 10
Kudos: 2





	1. It’s time for a Panto

**Author's Note:**

> As usual the characters belong to GRR Martin etc. but the story is © M Stanson 2020

Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark thirty-fifth Earl of Sherwood confronted his daughters Sansa and Arya in his library. “You will play the principle boy and the leading girl in this year’s panto”.

“Oh no we won’t” the girls chorused in unison, but with entirely the wrong tone of voice to get a laugh.

“Oh yes you bloody well will and I’m not joking. For years the Starks have put on a Christmas Day panto for the staff after lunch and for years the daughters of the household have played the lead roles and you two aren’t getting out of it by any of your little tricks this year. You’re fifteen and fourteen for god’s sakes; you complain endless that I treat you like children, but when I expect you to behave like adults you immediately say no, and in a particularly childish fashion”. The two girls stood and waited, they knew the storm would blow itself out fastest if they said nothing more. “In addition this year we’ll have some of the Lannister’s over and some of them will have to be invited to join in. I want to assure myself that the best roles will be played by the Starks, otherwise I’ll have bloody Cersei claiming she should be the principle boy and that isn’t going to happen”.

There was a muttered “OK Dad” from both girls.

Ned breathed out slowly; these two would be the death of him. “Look we can have a bit of fun with this, the Lannister’s are bringing that great oaf Clegane with them, as if I need their butler in my house; so he’s going to be cast as the dame, and Tywin Lannister as the Sherriff of Nottingham. They’ll both know we’re taking the piss, but etiquette will demand they play along. I’m not quite sure yet what part we’ll give Joffrey yet, but it will fit the same vein. I’m going to have to play careful with him otherwise he’ll throw a tantrum and refuse to join in and his mother will back him up, so it’s got be a subtle piss take; an ostensibly decent part and we write lots of innuendo gags in that he’ll not be sure he’s getting and we can deny have any ill intent”.

Now he had the girl’s attention, taking the piss out of the Lannisters, their nearest neighbours, was always something they were interested in. Tywin, thirty-seventh Duke, and hereditary Sherriff, of Nottingham, was in permanent competition with their father over local influence and then it trickled down the family line, the wives vied for who was most attractive and did the most worthy things for the small people as they disparagingly referred to the local villagers. The children then carried on the animosity as every level from sports events to snow ball fights to name calling. Once it had even got serious, Joffrey had tried to actually hit Arya and gotten himself bitten by her Siberian Husky, Nymeria. There had been talk of the dog having to be put down, and to avoid this she now lived with a village family on the estate and Arya had to walk miles to see her. In the middle ages the whole thing could have led to civil war and serious violence, but now in the nineteen twenties it was frankly all rather childish. Arya Stark, the family’s token feminist and socialist would have derided the whole situation if she didn’t have such a vested interest in hating Joffrey.

It was, unsurprisingly, Arya who spoke up “I’ll do it as long as I get to play Robin Hood”. Her sister didn’t argue, but her father did.

“No I’m sorry Arya, I know the two of you would love to do it that way round but the height difference will make it look ridiculous. Sansa will play Robin Hood and you will play Maid Marion”.

Neither of the girls liked the plan, but they could see their fathers point. Sansa was pretty well full grown and five feet nine, Arya was desperately hoping she still had a bit more to go as she was still half an inch short of five feet.

Arya looked at her father and did her best to adopt an innocent air “Who’s writing the script”

“Your mother, so it will be family friendly. I know you’ll try and slip in something crude and I know I can’t entirely prevent it, but if your mother writes the basic script you’ll have limited opportunities”.

“Aw Dad you’re all heart”.

Sansa had been quiet throughout the discussion so far, but finally spoke up. “So what will I have to wear”.

“Oh the usual thing for a panto Robin Hood, silly hat, little short jacket with a fairly deep neckline, tiniest skirt imaginable, tights and dancing shoes”. Sansa’s face screwed up in distaste “Look you’re old enough to understand the point of the principle boy in panto is to give the fathers a pretty girl to look at”.

“Letch over”

“Thanks you Arya that will do. I do not letch over my daughter, but I will be proudly admiring how beautiful she is with long red hair, a slender figure and long legs, and so will the other men in the audience. Your mother won’t write anything in that will make you look too frightening for any of the visiting young gentlemen so don’t try and claim it will spoil your marriage prospects”.

Sansa had again subsided into silence, Arya hadn’t “And I suppose I’m going to be in some Victorian bustle and corset affair that will crush my ribs, make me unable to breath or do anything but stand there and simper”.

“No dear” Catelyn had come into the room and was stood behind them. “I’m going to need you to run away from the Sherriff with Robin at one point so you’ll be in a short skirt and tights too. I am going to put you in a little corset I found upstairs that was granny’s, which if I’m right will just lift your décolletage enough for you to show off your grown up womanly figure”.

Arya did her best not to look too pleased, but quietly she was happy to have something that gave her a bust. When you’re fourteen and still wondering if your breasts will ever really appear, flapper dresses don’t do a girl any favours.

“Now run along you two I need to discuss things with your father”.


	2. Cut! Oh no that’s the film industry

“You will go to your room, you will not come down for dinner. If I am feeling more generous by then I will get cook to send up some bread and whatever leftover stew she is preparing for the staff, but if I get any disobedience out of you, you will go hungry”.

Arya walked up the stair with her shoulders slumped. She knew what she’d done would provoke a reaction but she hadn’t expected her mother to be this upset. It was only a haircut, it was even a fashionable haircut, well maybe that was pushing things, it could have been a fashionable haircut but the barber clearly hadn’t got a clue so it was a bit short back and sides, but that was her mother’s fault. Arya had asked very politely the last time the hairdresser came to the house to have a modern bob style, but her mother hadn’t let her so this afternoon she’d made an excuse about going over to see Nymeria and instead ridden in to Worksop. She’d seen several pictures in the fashionable magazines of men’s barbers doing women’s bob hairstyles, but of course they were in places like London, not Worksop.

Dinner did arrive and cook had not stinted the portion. Yes it was a simple stew almost certainly made with leftovers from the roast from the previous day, but it was hot and there were plenty of potatoes and vegetables with it. The maid who brought it up, a girl no older than Arya had also produced a cream éclair from her hand under the plate. It was a bit squashed but was clearly today’s sweet and rounded the meal out nicely so Arya wasn’t really feeling that put out when her sister appeared later in the evening.

“Oh Arya what have you done”. Sansa sat down in her sister’s bedroom, a look of shock on her face. This was her first sight of the ‘cut’; Arya having been sent upstairs almost as soon as she’d arrived back from town and been seen by her mother.

“I went into Worksop and got it cut at a barber on Bridge Street”.

I’m surprised he agreed to cut it”.

“Ah well, he didn’t realise I was a girl. I took some scissors from the dressmaking tools and chopped most of it off half way there and I’d gone in trousers and so on. I did my best ‘Ay up me duck’ and he fell for it. The shame is he’s a lousy barber, so yes it’s not what I wanted it to look like, but it will grow a bit in a couple of weeks and when Mrs Styles comes round she can give me the sort of style I want and mother won’t say anything because the alternative will be this”.

Sansa sighed, she didn’t see why Arya kept running about wearing not just trousers and shirts, but boy’s trousers and shirts, mostly stolen from the wardrobe of her brother Robb’s clothing that was waiting to be handed on to Bran when he grew into it. She also knew her mother was genuinely worried that Arya was, in her words, ‘turning into that sort of girl’. Dorothy Todd and had taken over Vogue and was openly a lesbian and rumours were already circulating that Madge Garland, who worked for her, was her lover. It was alright Arya pretending none of this mattered because she was going to get a job and never get married, but in a couple of years’ time when she changed her tune she could afford that sort of rumour to be blighting her marriage prospects. “You realise you look like one of the estate boys don’t you”.

“Yes. Oh Sansa please, mother’s completely flipped over something pretty trivial. It’s not like I ran off with one of the footmen and have come back pregnant”. Sansa shuddered; how her sister could even make that sort of joke after what had happened to Auntie Lyanna she didn’t know. She wanted to believe that the two of them were as inseparable as they had been as small children, but since puberty Sansa had realised that Arya just wasn’t a smaller version of herself, but had her own very distinctive views on life.

“Anyway that wasn’t the only result of this afternoons’ journey. I was waiting my turn and the man before had finished and the barber asked him if he wanted anything for the weekend, which seemed a bit strange to me since it’s only Tuesday. The man said no but when it was my turn to pay I said to him I’d like something for the weekend. He gave me a funny look and said I needed to be bloody careful playing that game at my age, but then he gave me this packet”. Arya produced a small package labelled Trojan brand, which it described as Defiberised and Sensitised. She watched her sisters eyes widen and the flush of red cover her skin.

“God Arya are those….” She stuttered to a stop, she clearly wasn’t going to actually say the word.

“Yes Sansa this is a pack of condoms, or as the estate boys call them ‘Johnnies’”.

“What are you going to do with them”.

“Probably nothing. When he gave them me I didn’t realise what I was getting, but I could hardly give them back, that would have made me look stupid and very childish. Practically it won’t do any harm for each of us to have one in a pocket or handbag and then if the ‘fate worse than death’ that mother has warned us about so often occurs at least we can make sure it happens safely”.

“There’s no way I’m having one of those in my purse, what if it fell out, you’d be advertising to any boy watching that you were getting ready to do ‘it’; and if mother finds them we’ll not be let out of the house without Nanny Mordane with us”.

The last comment did make Arya wonder, they had both just about managed to convince their mother that they were old enough not to need nanny to accompany them everywhere in the gardens or round the immediate estate areas where they were known. Losing that privilege would be a serious step backwards. Nanny had her hands full with the two younger boys, although Bran would be off to boarding school shortly, but it would in practice mean they were back in the nursery for a lot of the day. To avoid having to admit defeat Arya decided to change the subject. “Have you seen the new smith’s apprentice”.

“No”.

“Called Gendry, started a few weeks ago, was in the stables when I went to get my bicycle. He must be about eighteen or nineteen, muscles on his muscles. If I were to decide to have children I rather fancy the idea of a blacksmith and I’ll bet the muscles go all the way down there”.

“Arya I’m not sure there are any muscles down there, you saw that stable boy, it looked more like it blew up like a balloon than anything else”. Sansa was of course referring to the afternoon she and Arya had hidden in the hayloft and spotted a stable boy get his manhood out and rubbing it until it had squirted a creamy substance into the straw at his feet. Apart from a practical lesson on the laundry aspects of your monthly periods this was the most sex education the two girls had had about men. They knew exactly what the bull and the stallion and the dogs did, but Sansa was convinced there had to be something better and more romantic for humans. Arya wasn’t convinced but had noticed that the females did seem keen for the act to happen and wondering how that willingness might manifest itself in her. “Anyway there’s no way father would let either of us marry a blacksmith. I know a lot of the older girls are still looking for husbands after the losses during the war, but we’re young enough, there are plenty of boys our age, and from the right background, to pick from”.

“I don’t want to pick a boy because he’s from the right background. If I pick a boy at all I want him to be the right sort of person”. This was an old argument and it could have gone on a lot longer had their mother not appeared in the doorway. Arya hurriedly palmed the condom packet and pushed it under her bottom.

“Arya I’m still very angry at you about the haircut and also that it appears you were seen in Worksop by yourself. A young lady of your breeding cannot do that. If you were to be seen by one of, for example, the Lannister or Baratheon families they would lose no opportunity to turn a simple visit to town into something disgraceful and then tell the whole county. Anyway, I’m prepared to say nothing more for now; what I’m really here for is to give you two copies of the script so you can start learning your lines”. Lady Stark dropped two neatly typed piles of paper on the bed and walked back out.


	3. The Plot Thickens

Three days after the fateful haircut things has calmed down a little and Arya and Sansa were reading their lines. They knew people like the Lannisters wouldn’t know their lines because they’d only arrive the day before the performance and would just read them out from the script in their hands, but the girls had decided if it was worth doing it was worth getting right. “You know I could do this for a living, I’m really enjoying myself, however ridiculous the plot and bad the jokes. Yes maybe that is my future career I’ll become an actress”.

Sansa rolled her eyes, a couple of months previously a small plane had flown over the house and circled round a few times and suddenly Arya had wanted to be an aviatrix, as if they would ever let women fly anything as dangerous as aeroplanes. Next month it would be something different until Arya finally grew up and realised that all she needed was the warm arms and loving heart of the right man, the younger son of one of the county families who she’d have met at an appropriate social function during her coming out season in town. She knew telling Arya this would only provoke and argument so instead she tried an alternative distraction. “I’d have thought you’d have approved of Robin Hood robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. Isn’t that what the Socialists you support propose to do”.

“But he doesn’t make a lasting difference; the difference when we get a truly socialist government is it will be done systematically though taxation and that sort of thing will be irreversible. Now the ordinary working people have the vote they would never vote for a party who said ‘We’re going to rearrange the taxes to make the rich richer’”.

“It strikes me all that will happen is the rich will be made poorer. The Russians don’t suddenly seem to be that much better off after their revolution. Anyway, enough of this where were we. Yes ‘I’m so tired. I can’t go any further. I’m absolutely knickered’”.

“Don’t you mean knackered”.

“No, knickered. My breath’s coming in short pants”. Sansa giggled, that was almost a naughty joke. It was certainly as naughty as her mother would allow. She realised Arya had muttered something to herself and annotated her script. She said nothing slid a little closer and then made a grab for the paper in her sister’s hand. Arya was usually so much faster than her sister, but she was concentrating on what she was writing so Sansa got hold of the page and turned it round to read it. The extra line in pencil read ‘If you bend over like that much longer so will half the boys in the audience’.

“Oy give that back”, Arya grabbed the sheet back nearly ripping it in the process.

“So you’re adding extra lines to make it smuttier”.

“Why not, most of them will be bored stiff otherwise. I mean listen to this one ‘What did the grumpy sheep say at Christmas - Baaa Humbug’. We make them sit through this every year as though we’re doing them a favour. I’ll bet all most of them want do is have a nap, particularly the older ones and a few of the youngsters might just want to slip upstairs to make use of their Vulcan products. I’ve seen the way the third footman’s looking at the new tweeny and she isn’t exactly giving him the cold shoulder either”.

“Never mind about the under footman” although Sansa had to admit to herself she’d noticed the one Arya was talking about, he had a way of grinning at you that suggested he was thinking about polishing something other than the silver. “I don’t get the joke, I get mum’s bit about knickers being short pants but what will the boys be doing, they don’t wear short pants, well except for Bran and Rickon”.

Arya rolled her eyes, how could she have a sister who was so naive “It all centres on the word coming”.

“And”

“OK I’ll spell it out, coming is what the boy in the stable block was doing when he produced the creamy stuff, so I’m implying that if you stand there bent over in your tights and not much else facing the audience some of them might get a bit overexcited”. Arya watched Sansa go very red.

Sansa could feel her face redden; it wasn’t fair why did she always blush so easily and so much. Her mother said it was her red hair, but she knew their mother didn’t blush much so it really had to be her total sexual innocence and sometimes she didn’t like that idea. “I really wish you hadn’t told me that, but I won’t be standing there with my bottom facing them anyway, I’ll just stand sort of sideways”.

“Not if I spin you round you won’t” Arya’s reply was quiet enough for Sansa not to hear.

“So have you done this all the way through. I’m learning lines and you’re going to ad lib all over the place so I get lost”.

“Well if you promise not to tell mother, cross your heart and hope to die promise, then I’ll mark your script up. I might even write in a few extra lines for you if you like”.

“I promise, but I don’t want any extra lines if they have naughty meanings, I’ll never mange to say them without blushing and that’ll make it even worse”.

“OK then give me your script and I’ll mark it up but nothing extra for you. And remember no mention of these at the dress rehearsal or they’ll be banned, this is the Christmas day only script”.


	4. Oh! What a frock darling

So the Lannisters had arrived mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve. Despite Ned’s hints that he wasn’t welcome the man Clegane was there as Tywin’s valet. What sort of person used their butler as a valet, had the Lannisters no standards. It didn’t help that Clegane had been badly burnt over his face, some said in the trenches during the war others in a domestic row with his brother and both the girls had been terrified of him when they first saw him. That was long ago but Ned just found his attitude wrong, he never seemed happy in his job always behaving as if the Lannisters disgusted him and by extension anyone they knew disgusted him as well. Well if they did why did he stay with them, good butlers were hard to get in these days when so many men had not come back from the war and even more had come back to find other forms of work. Anyway Ned had more to do than worry about other people’s servant problems. “Tywin, welcome, it’s good to see you all. Get your coats off and come into the library, bring Clegane with you as well please. I want to explain who’ll be doing what in the pantomime”. Clegane’s face registered another degree or two of disgusted, but it was the young lad Joffrey who spoke out “Oh please pater we don’t have to join in their stupid pantomime again do we. It’s so booooring”.

Tywin’s face went from its resting state to its more habitual look of disapproval almost instantly “Joffrey, you will apologise to the Earl immediately. We are their guests, it behoves us as their social superiors to participate in whatever activities they present us for the festive season and to do so with good grace regardless of our personal opinions”.

“I’m sorry Sherwood” he didn’t really sound sorry but Ned was going to let it ride. Tywin had barely been through the door five minutes and he’d reminded Ned that he was a duke and Ned only an earl. Clearly it was going to been one of those sorts of Christmas.

“Right so rather unimaginatively we’re doing Robin Hood this year. Sansa will play Robin, Arya Maid Marion, Tywin if you would remain typecast as the wicked Sherriff”

Cersei interjected “But he’s not a _wicked_ sheriff”.

“Oh yes he is!” the girls chimed in bang on cue and with sufficient lightness of touch that it had to be taken as joke, whether it was meant that way or not.

Tywin managed a forced grin and nodded his head as if to say ‘I expected nothing less’.

“Clegane you will play the dame as Marion’s faithful nanny” Clegane didn’t answer but Ned wondered how many different grades of facial disgust he could manage. “And Joffrey I didn’t think it would be polite to leave you out but it’s only a very small part”.

Arya chipped in “Never mind Joffrey we won’t tell”. It clearly took a clear minute for the meaning of Arya’s comment to work its way into Joffrey’s brain. You could see him thinking, this has to be an insult, then he worked it out. Fortunately this gave Ned the time to complete his sentence “As one of the Sherriff’s guards” and Tywin to look pointedly at his son. Joffrey’s mouth stayed shut but his eyes focused on Arya.

“Don’t worry Joffrey I don’t bite, I leave that to Nymeria”. Joffery’s mouth opened as did Ned’s but Arya was gone all they heard was a fading voice calling “Yes mum, I’ll get everyone’s costumes” and Catelyn came into the room. Ned took the opportunity to escape and leave his wife to organise fittings while he went and dressed for dinner.

Arya’s return with the costumes provoked a flurry of activity. A screen was in place in the middle of the room so the girls could dress on one side and the boys on the other. Catelyn started on the girl’s side, which was relatively easy as she’d been able to fit them all earlier. Besides apart from Arya’s corset there was nothing special to achieve. She was really proud of Arya’s corset, she had worked on it quite carefully and when she finally tied it up the effect was just what she wanted for her younger daughter. Arya’s nascent breasts had been manoeuvred upwards to make the most of very little. “Is it uncomfy darling”

“No mum” and surprisingly it wasn’t. Most of the time Arya wore nothing on top but outer clothing plus a vest in winter. She did own one small brassiere, but felt it achieved nothing so had left it in the draw until she grew into it, but the corset was simply snug and when she looked own at herself she felt more like a real woman than she ever had before.

Sansa on the other hand was deeply uncomfortable. Her costume was so flimsy she felt like she had nothing on. She would swear she could feel the breeze through her tights onto her ‘down below’. Her breasts were not restrained and the deep V of her neckline meant she felt as if she twisted suddenly one of them might pop out.

Having checked the girls Catelyn called out “Are all the boys decent”, and got a chorus of more or less convincing ‘Yes'es. She folded the screen back and went round to check the men were not in need of assistance.

Joffrey had had nearly fifteen minutes to think up a riposte to Arya and as soon as he saw her in her Maid Marion outfit he said his piece “I’m surprised you aren’t playing the front of the horse then”. Arya whipped round but her mother was in the way.

Tywin’s voice snapped “Joffrey” and he mumbled “Sorry” again rather unconvincingly.

Clegane stood between the two would be contestants “You be thankful lad, in another few years they’ll have you dressed up like this”.

It was true, if you were setting out to humiliate a man who took himself perhaps little too seriously Clegane’s costume was the summit of perfection. All in lurid pink he sported a large bonnet, a crinoline dress that had last been in fashion in the 1850’s. Due to his considerable size the dress ended half way down his legs and beneath were a pair of frilly bloomers terminating in his normal black shoes. Catelyn would have liked to have provided pink shoes as well but she had no idea of his foot size and whatever it was it would have been too large to raid her grandmothers clothes which had provide much of the structure for the pink material to be stitched to. The piece de resistance was however Clegane’s décolletage, where a pair of melons from the hot house nestled in bright yellow splendour. By comparison Tywin’s sheriff’s uniform was a plain black affair and Joffrey was similarly simply attired except for the fact that he too was in tights in much the same way as Sansa, Bran, Rickon and a couple of the younger servants called in to play outlaws or guards as the situation demanded.

It was Clegane who first noticed Arya. She’d appeared originally with a high fashion new bob cut, Mrs Styles had rescued the military short back and sides, but now her mother had put a long dark wig on her. The hair fell in folds round her face, she was smiling and a perky little pair of breasts were peeking over the top of her corset. Sandor Clegane realised very quickly that Arya Stark had grown up, well not up much, but he knew what he meant and he was pleased that under a crinoline and bloomers he had nothing to worry about. Joffrey didn’t have that advantage; first he’d seen the diving neck line of Sansa’s tunic and then the gentle white curves of Arya’s bosom, if not bursting out then clearly on display. He reacted the way any boy would and in tights that couldn’t be hidden.

Sansa saw him and blushed, Arya saw him and took one look and laughed. “Father was right it’s a very small part indeed Joffrey”. Catelyn realised the problem and with surprising speed got the screen between the two of them blocking all the boys on one side. “Maybe a few socks to make bit of padding for you boys would be a good idea. Next year I’ll make the costumes longer but for now yes I think a pair of socks each should do the trick”. And so it proved. 


	5. After Effects

The noise was a mixture of applause, cheers and sadly her father’s displeasure. The girls ran up the stairs into Sansa’s room and collapsed on the bed. Arya was bent double with laughter and even Sansa was giggling.

“Well it serves him right, I didn’t mind him obviously perving over your boobs, but when he started fondling your bum during the curtain call I’d had enough. You know nanny’s rule, ‘No girl should ever be without her hat pin’; well I wasn’t so he paid the price. I’m impressed a man his size can hit that high pitched a note, he should be in the church choir”.

“What did you actually do, I know he squealed like stuck pig but he also went a very strange green colour and fell on his knees”.

“I lifted his skirts and stuck the hat pin in his bum, then grabbed his balls and twisted, it will be a while before he thinks of touching a Stark girl again. I’m surprised you didn’t react when he touched you”.

Sansa went a bit pink “I didn’t realise it was him I thought it was the third footman on my other side”.

“And that makes all the difference because”

Sansa went bit pinker “I may have encouraged him a little between scenes three and four”.

“Encouraged him”

“We were stood pushed against each other to stay out of site in the wings and he said I was a very beautiful woman and it was a shame we were separated by class and I could feel that he meant it so I gave him a little squeeze just as I went on stage. His sock wasn’t necessary there’s really a lot of him”.

“Sansa Stark you little trollop, you’re a dark horse and no mistake, what provoked this sudden change from the blushing maiden”.

“I think I may be just a little bit squiffy, I drank rather more champagne during lunch than I normally do”.

“What’s the line from that song that cook sing’s; ‘Of the fate of the maiden who topes, She lowered her standards by raising her glass’”.

“It was champers not madeira, I can imagine anyone but an old duffer drinking madeira”.

Arya had the bit between her teeth, quietly Sansa suspected she’d had rather more to drink than normal as well.

“She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was nice

She was fair she was sweet seventeen

He was old, he was vile and no stranger to vice,

He was base, he was bad, he was mean”.

Catelyn and Ned entered the room. Ned’s voice cut through Arya last words “Whatever he was, was no excuse for what you did to him Arya. I understand that you may find some elements of polite behaviour irksome but grabbing a man by the balls is going too far. You will both stay up here tonight and tomorrow morning until the Lannister party has left”.

“You realise he was groping Sansa’s bum”.

“The look on Sansa’s face at the time suggests you’re lying or she wasn’t unhappy with the arrangement. I have had enough Arya there will be repercussions from this”.

“I think if Arya is telling the truth then Sansa was maintaining a stiff upper lip in a very ladylike manner dear and if that is the case the man Clegane’s behaviour is completely unacceptable, however it is Christmas day, I suspect many of us” and here she glared at the two girls “Have drunk more than they should and said and done things that are best quickly forgotten”. Catelyn was clearly trying very hard to diffuse Ned’s temper in case he next decided he would have to take action against Lannister’s man. “I agree that the girls should remain upstairs tonight and the Lannister party are in the West wing so no one need come into contact when they retire for the evening. We are all however going to the Boxing Day meet, and I mean all of us Arya”.

“The unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable again”.

“I remember a few years ago one got into the hen house and killed your pet bantams, you weren’t so anti fox hunting then, were you”.

“No mum”.

“So we will all be down for breakfast, dressed and ready to leave immediately afterwards. Ned I’m sure you and Tyron could both do with a brandy in the billiard room”. She ushered her husband out the door and waited until he had had time to be out of hearing.

“Well I have to give you full marks for inventiveness and yes it did enlighten what had become a formulaic event. I heard several comments as the staff left that this year was ‘a bit more like it, a bit of leg and a few smutty jokes is what Panto’s really about’. The hat pin may have been justified, but after that you went over the top Arya, as sadly you so often do”.

“Sorry mum”.

“It is also obvious we all need to have a couple of conversations about the male of the species and how, and how not, to handle him and yes that is a double-entendre Arya; you’re not the first person in the world to make one”. Catelyn turned to walk out but stopped at the door. “And since you have a supply you can do the ‘how to put a contraceptive on a banana' demonstration Arya” before completing her exit.

The two girls looked at each other “How did she find out”

“Never mind that, I think we’re about to see a sde of our mum we haven’t previously thought about”.

“There are four of us she can hardly be completely innocent”.

“I still think spring is going to bring some surprises”.

But that as they say is another story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now it’s behind you, yes I should have worked out how to get that in earlier but there never seemed an opportunity; I have a confession to make. While checking my reference I have discovered that the song referred to “Have some Madiera My dear” wasn’t written by Michael Flanders of Flanders and Swan until 1956 so could not have been sung by cook in the 1920’s. The words however seemed to fit rather well so it’s staying in place.
> 
> If you are not English and the whole concept of ‘Panto’ is confusing you I’m sure there’s plenty of help on the net, but I’ll also answer questions in the comments section. I would say that, in the words of another Flanders and Swan song, it is a prime example of why “The English are best” [if you’ve been paying attention you will of course know the appropriate reply].
> 
> Merry Christmas!
> 
> PS Sorry this didn't get posted on the 16th

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments, positive or negative, or I feel like I’m performing a monologue in an empty theatre.


End file.
